Figg
by Debate4life
Summary: Arabella Figg has a second chance at life in another universe- a chance for Redemption. This Harry's story does not need to be the same as the one she left behind.


Disclaimer: This is my sand castle, but not my sand box. I owe thanks to J K Rowling for an awesome universe to play aroud with.

When Arabella Figg died, there was no fanfare. Even as the Sorting Hat's song echoed around a distant hall some twenty years after the second War, she was expiring quietly, in her sleep. She was no more notable in death than she had been in life.

No children and no husband existed to grieve for her. There had been a husband once...but she was well shot of that old goat. The nearest she had truly come to a family- an orphan boy entrusted to her oversight, who might once have become as a son to her- was not so dear, after all, for she had failed him when he needed her, and no apologies now could forge a bond. She had no great accomplishments. Whatever her girlhood goals had been, they had not been lived.

As she felt her soul lift free, she knew only relief at the end of a life that had long abandoned its purpose. She felt she could choose to linger. Perhaps a different person might have. Some became ghosts, unable to leave unfinished business. Arabella, though, had no important business or loves, nothing to draw her back. With this acknowledgement, in her heart of hearts, she felt the last strings tying her to the earth fade into nothing.

As she rose, she also felt as though she were moving in another direction. Not up, not down. Not forward, nor backwards either. Neither right nor left...but moving, yes. Her vision seemed to change suddenly, as though she had crossed some hidden threshold that she had never before detected. Below her sat the globe, but somehow it was not one globe, her globe...no, in some indefinable way, it was many worlds and any times that the limits of her mind forced into a globe. Arabella felt a moment of bone deep terror at the thought, then- nothing. The sensation was gone with the speed of thought, as though it had never existed.

Unseen hands reached into her- through her- and she felt something fundamental shift in her below the level of consciousness. She felt as though it should scare her. Shouldn't it hurt, to change so? But all she felt was a done-deep calm.

The figure withdrew, and the changes seemed to solidify. Or gel? Her essence was not liquid nor gas nor solid, but that was as close as she could rationalise it. Human words did not fully capture the sensation. Two paths opened beneath her feet. In her mind's eye, they were labeled. "Peace," offered a lonely lane, meandering up beyond the limits of her perception. "Redemption," tempted a steeply downward track, near a slide.

Arabella felt something stir in her breast, something she had not felt in many years. Peace sounded promising...but she was curious. It surely wouldn't hurt to get a bit closer? A step onto the path to Redemption. A second, more hesitant. She leaned forward, straining to see the bottom. Oomph! Some great force impacted her behind, and she flew forward, impacting the track, careening down- down- down! into something alien yet familiar...then, nothing.

She came to gradually, and with consciousness came awareness. She was not alone in her head. Her memories seemed distant but still clear. Her emotions- confusion, disorientation- yes, that was clear enough. But...that was not all she could sense. There was another presence inside of her, alien and grating.

With a shock, she recognised the presence. Without being able to see it, or hear it, or truly feel it, Arabella Doreen Figg suddenly knew she was in the body of Petunia Evans nee Dursley...no, Petunia Evans. Disbelieving, she raised her hands, suddenly feeling Petunia struggle against her control. Arabella's will, driven by fear, prevailed. She took stock, and realised she was young...much too young. Late teens young. With that realisation came hysterics, and screaming. Petunia's essence was gibbering alongside her, and somehow their panic fed on the other's. As an older couple rushed into the - Petunia's? - bedroom, blackness seemed to flow back in from the edges of their vision, and they passed out.

Time passed in a blur. Wake. See fleeting scenes. An ambulance. A hospital waiting room. A large man...Vernon Dursley...he was yelling? The couple again. A beautiful teen with emerald eyes, red hair, and a disgusted expression. Resume hysterics. Faint or succumb to the sedatives flowing in through IVs. Rinse. Repeat.

The world had changed fundamentally for both of them.

Author's Note: Just an odd idea I had bouncing around my head. Let me know if you're interested in seeing it continued.


End file.
